#but that ain’t what this is actually about
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mcrdvcks · 2 days ago
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Call It What You Want
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Summary: A single sneeze turns into something more, at least to your husband Logan.
Word Count: 1.9k+
Pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
Notes: i'm feeling a bit sick and i remember i had written this a while ago so here it is :)
i actually have a few other ideas and short oneshots written in this universe so i might upload some more sporadically
(also thank you for 500 followers! really means a lot to me <3)
Warnings/tags: sickness (sneezing, stuffy nose), reader has powers (sonic screams), pet names (darlin', baby, sweetheart)
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A simple sneeze. That’s how it started.
You and Logan were in your shared bedroom, both at your respective desks, grading papers in silence. The quiet was only interrupted by the occasional sound of paper rustling or the scratch of a pen. It was peaceful, really. Until you sneezed into your elbow, trying not to make a big deal of it.
Logan glanced over, raising an eyebrow but not saying anything at first. You grabbed a tissue and blew your nose, tossing it into the wastebasket nearby.
"That time of year again?" Logan asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.
"Maybe," you replied, rubbing your nose. "’m fine."
He let out a low chuckle, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, ‘cause you always say you’re fine, then next thing I know you’re curled up under six blankets, complainin’ about not bein’ able to breathe.” He walked over, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I’m not always like that," you protested, looking up at him with a small smile.
"Sure, princess." Logan smirked, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “But if you’re gettin’ sick, you should rest. You work too hard.”
"I don’t have time to be sick." You glanced at the pile of essays that still needed grading. “Besides, these students aren’t going to grade themselves.”
"Bet you I could convince Chuck to get a telepath to grade these for ya," Logan teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Now, go lay down.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest at his concern. "Logan, I’m fine. It’s just a sneeze."
"Uh-huh," he grumbled. “Just a sneeze, until it ain’t.”
"I’ll be fine," you insisted. "Besides, you're not the boss of me."
Logan smirked again, his voice dropping to that low, gruff tone that always made your stomach flip. "Ain’t I though?"
You shot him a playful glare, knowing exactly where this was going. "No, you’re not."
He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Alright, darlin’… but if you start feelin’ worse, you better let me take care of ya. You hear?"
You smiled, unable to help it. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, tough guy."
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss before pulling back. "You better be. Ain’t in the mood to deal with a cranky version of you.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Like you’re never cranky.”
“I’m lovable,” he grunted, moving back to his desk. "You, on the other hand…”
“I’m adorable,” you finished for him, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”
You turned back to your papers, feeling the slightest tickle in your nose again. "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh?" Logan repeated, eyeing you cautiously.
And then, you sneezed again—this time louder. The vibration from your powers caused a low hum in the room, the soundwaves vibrating through the air, making the picture frames on the wall tremble slightly.
Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "That didn’t sound like just a sneeze, baby."
You winced, looking around at the small vibrations that still lingered in the room. "Oops."
He sighed, walking back over to you. "Come on, Y/N, that’s your body tellin’ you to take a break." He bent down to your level, his face now inches from yours. "Or do I need to carry ya to bed?"
You bit your lip, trying to keep the smirk from your face. "You wouldn’t."
"Wanna test me?" Logan’s voice was low, full of challenge.
You tilted your head, pretending to think about it. "Well, when you put it that way…”
Without another word, Logan scooped you up from your chair, making you let out a surprised laugh. “Logan! Put me down!”
“Nope,” he said, carrying you toward the bed with ease. “You had your chance, sweetheart.”
You kicked your feet lightly in protest but didn’t really try to escape. Being wrapped up in his arms was hardly a punishment. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yup,” he agreed, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling the covers up over you. “Now, you’re gonna stay right here, and I’m gonna make sure you’re comfortable.”
You crossed your arms, but a smile was already spreading across your face. “You’re overreacting.”
“Am I?” Logan raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Remember the last time you got sick? You nearly took out half the mansion with your soundwaves ‘cause you were sneezin’ so much.”
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, maybe a little rest won’t hurt.”
Logan grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Atta girl.”
You settled back into the pillows, the warmth of the blankets and Logan’s presence making you feel more relaxed. “Thanks, Logan,” you said softly.
He gave you a soft smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Anytime, darlin’. Now get some rest before you blow up the whole room.”
---
After days of trying to convince Logan, and the others, that it was just allergies, Logan had enough. He had dragged you to Jean after you finished teaching your first class of the day, and after accidentally shattering your computer screen with your sneeze.
Jean was already prepared, a bottle of cough syrup on a nearby medical table. “See? Told you it was a cold,” she said, holding up the bottle like it was proof.
You groaned, slumping in the chair next to her. “It’s just a little cold, Jean. You all act like I’m on my deathbed.”
Logan crossed his arms, standing behind you. “That little cold shattered a computer screen, Y/N. If it wasn’t for your powers, maybe we’d take your word for it, but—” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “We’ve seen what happens.”
Jean smirked at Logan’s comment but quickly turned her attention back to you. “He’s right, you know. We’ve got to be careful with your powers. Your body’s trying to rest, and that includes your control.”
You shot Logan a half-hearted glare. “You dragged me here for this?”
“Yup,” he replied, entirely unbothered. “And now that you’re here, Jean’s gonna make sure you actually take care of yourself.”
Jean held out the bottle of syrup. “Bottoms up.”
You stared at it like it was some sort of punishment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Logan let out a chuckle, moving to stand beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Come on, princess, just take the damn syrup. The faster you do, the faster we get back to our room.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you took the bottle from Jean’s hand and downed the syrup. The taste made you wince, and you immediately regretted it. “Ugh, that’s awful.”
Jean patted you on the back, her smile widening. “It’ll help, though. Now, you’ll need rest, fluids, and minimal stress. I don’t want to see you teaching for a couple of days, at least.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Logan cut you off before you could say anything. “You heard the doc, darlin’. No teaching, no grading. Just rest.”
You turned in your seat to look up at him, narrowing your eyes. “It’s just a cold. I’m not dyin’ or anything.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "Not dyin’, huh? Try tellin’ that to your computer screen."
You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the chair with a groan. "That was an accident, and you know it."
"Doesn’t matter," he shot back, folding his arms across his chest. “Still proves my point.”
Jean chuckled from where she stood, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Logan’s right, Y/N. Your body’s using up energy to fight this cold, and with your powers, that means less control. It’s not just about you—it's about keeping everyone around you safe.”
You narrowed your eyes at Logan. “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?”
Logan didn’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Oh yeah. And I’ll keep doin’ it ‘til you get your stubborn ass to bed.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. “I hate when you’re right.”
He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Get used to it, sweetheart. Happens more often than you’d like.”
Jean smiled warmly at the two of you, shaking her head. “Okay, lovebirds. I’ll give you some privacy while Y/N gets some rest. Logan, make sure she takes it easy.”
Logan nodded as Jean left the room, then turned back to you with a smug look. “So, no more arguments, right?”
You glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. “Fine. But just so you know, when I’m better, I’m gonna remind you of this moment. Payback’s a bitch, Logan.”
He chuckled again, unphased. “I’ll take my chances, darlin’.” Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms again.
"Logan!" You yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Making sure you actually rest," he replied, his voice casual as if carrying you around was the most normal thing in the world. “Figured this way, there’s no chance of you sneakin’ back to your desk.”
You tried to fight back a smile, though it was nearly impossible when you were cradled against him like this. “I wasn’t gonna sneak back.”
“Sure, princess,” he said, clearly not believing you for a second. “But just in case.”
He carried you back to your shared bedroom, gently setting you down on the bed and pulling the covers over you. He gave you a stern look, but there was warmth behind his eyes. "Stay."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You act like I’m a dog.”
"Not a dog,” Logan corrected, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Just a stubborn wife who doesn’t know when to quit."
You reached up to swat at his arm playfully. “I’m not that bad.”
He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You’re worse, but I still love ya.”
Your heart swelled at the soft look in his eyes, and for a moment, you forgot all about your cold. “I love you too,” you murmured.
Logan’s expression softened even further, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Now rest, sweetheart. You need it.”
You sighed, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
Logan chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead once more. “I’ll take it.”
He stood up, moving toward the door, but you called after him. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “What, miss me already?”
You rolled your eyes, but your tone softened. “Maybe. Just a little.”
Logan’s smirk turned into a genuine smile as he made his way back to the bed. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll stay.”
He kicked off his boots and slid into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, the cold, the shattered computer, and everything else melted away. All that mattered was the warmth of his embrace.
"You’re lucky I love you," you mumbled, already feeling yourself start to drift off.
Logan chuckled softly, his hand running through your hair. “Damn right, I am."
As sleep began to claim you, Logan’s steady presence beside you was the last thing you felt, a reminder that no matter how tough things got—or how stubborn you were—he’d always be there, ready to hold you close and make sure you were safe.
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thisismenow3 · 8 hours ago
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It’s a bit like saying “(blank) will end bullying!” And it’s just… no. Bullying in some form will always exist. Toxic gender ideals will always exist in some form. A lot of people don’t get that EAIAC for conservatives has a related phenomenon; they actually like the act of hating so “stopping” something will never be enough. What I mean is that societal change has been more and more conservative the last 40 years when it comes to masculinity in male dominated spaces. And in “family friendly” spaces. That’s culture war. And what do conservatives say they hate? The culture wars. But non conservatives giving up on culture wars “cause ughh, I’m done with this constant fighting” miss the point. The fighting doesn’t stop. Y’all just give up ground. You don’t call out people like in OP’s example because it will change them, you do it because it’s right. And you do it because if done enough there eventually will be a situation where tides within a group change. Whether it’s a group you’re connected to or not doesn’t matter. Sometimes most people ina group are casually, cognitive dissonance racist and really would like an opportunity to put Nathaniel in his place and tell him to shut the fuck up or marry a gay dude since he talks about them so much for Christ’s sake. In the mean time having this mind set helps police your own groups the way toxic masculine driven groups are already doing; cause plenty of liberal and lefty people with any amount of privilege want to backslide the second things get hard and most people on social settings just “want to keep it moving” and not actually have to stand up for anything. That’s how people who ain’t that toxic become more. It was easier to keep going along with the person who is near the “top” of the hierarchy even if they weren’t at the top because that person is belligerent. If there’s no one fulfilling that role for anti toxic masculinity, etc, then we will continue to see conservatives win the culture wars. And winning the culture wars has been how they’ve won at government the last 45 years. Cause even when they’re not in power the narrative is based around things exactly the way they want with few exceptions
If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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whatdoeseverybodywant · 3 days ago
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What We Used to Be - Jey Uso x Black!OC
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
Main Masterlist
This will remain a ONESHOT, no part twos ❤️
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April 11th 2017
JaiFelix_WWE
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liked by trinity_fatu, sashabankswwe, and 300,000 others
JaiFelix_WWE: If you're not watching Smackdown tonight, what are you doing??!
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user: dreaming about us being together
trinity_fatu : JAI- JAI 💖
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jonathanfatu: can u delete this plz! got my wife licking her phone!
↪JaiFelix_WWE: @jonathanfatu LMAO!
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Jaiania held her breath as she walked past Josh and his twin brother Jon. She kept her head down, hoping they didn’t notice her walking by them. She absolutely did not want to have a conversation with either of them - especially Josh -. After their failed relationship and trainwreck of a breakup, she would rather play in traffic than have a conversation with him. 
She almost made it past them without being noticed. “Damn girl you just gon walk right past us.” That was Jon. Jaiania forced a smile on her face and turned around to face them. 
“Oh, hey.” She said, keeping her eyes on Jon. “Didn’t see you there.” She shrugged when he gave her a ‘yeah right’ look. Josh crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes when he realized that she was trying her hardest to not look in his direction. 
This is awkward she thought as she rocked back on her heels before pointing in the direction she was walking. 
“I gotta go. Nice seeing you though,” She said to Jon, still ignoring Joshua’s presence. 
She hurried down the hallway feeling their eyes on her. 
Jon turned to his brother once she rounded the corner. “Look at what you did,” He said, smacking Josh on his chest. Josh rolled his eyes. 
“I ain't do shit. Come on, we gotta get ready.”  Josh did not want to hear that bullshit. He was in the wrong just as much as she was but since everyone loved Jaiania he took all the blame. 
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Jaiaina groaned as she saw Jon and Josh walking her way a couple of hours later. This must be my lucky day, two times in one night, she thought bitterly. She could normally avoid Jon and Josh but they seemed to be everywhere she was today.
“Congratulations guys.” She said referring to the Smackdown tag team titles they had just won from Chad Gable and Jason Jordan. 
“Thank you, Jai,” Jon said, trying to give her a sweaty hug. She pretended to throw up and moved away from him. “Is your arm okay tho? That rinpost spot looked pretty rough.” 
“I’m totally fine.” Jaiaina lied. “Looked way worse than it actually was.” She said, smiling at him. 
“Yeet!” He said, making Jaiaina roll her eyes. “We goin’ out to celebrate our big win tonight, you in?”  
Jaiaina let her eyes cut over to Josh who thankfully wasn’t looking at her. “Uh. I can’t. I have plans already.” That got Josh’s attention. He looked up from his phone and squinted his eyes at her. He wasn't normally one for gossip but he had heard some things about Jaiaina and another one of their co-workers recently. 
“So the rumors are true huh?” He said with a scoff. “You move on fast.” Jaiaina cut her eyes back over to him and glared. 
“Excuse me?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
Josh sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. “You heard me.” 
Jon let his eyes ping pong between the two of them. He knew he needed to stop them before they became explosive. “Uce, come on. It ain’t worth it. ” Jon said trying to pull his brother along but Josh wasn’t budging. “Josh, stop. Let’s go Uce” 
“Yeah, I think that's a good idea,” Jaiaina said as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from them.  6 months of silence and the first thing he said to her is something about some bullshit ass rumors?! Pathetic 
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“And then he had the nerve to talk about me moving on too fast,” Jaiaina said to Trinity and Carmella as they sat in the VIP section of a club. “I mean, he broke up with me. What does he care if I moved on or not.” She said as she downed another shot. Carmelle and Trinity shared a look but didn’t say anything.  “And what fucking rumors?!” She turned to her best friends. “Yall heard rumors about me?” She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes when they both nodded. 
“Yeah, but we obviously don't believe it,”  Carmella said. 
“What's the rumor though?” 
Carmella shrugged and sipped her drink. “Something about you and AJ” 
Jaiaina's eyes widened. “AJ STYLES?!” She asked louder than necessary. “Ew, what the fuck. Where did that fucking come from?”
 Carmella sighed. “Okay, here's what I know. Apparently, someone saw you and him  leaving a hotel room together a couple of weeks ago.”
 Jaiaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Do these people know that he’s married and I would never do that to Wendy or his children?” She sighed. “And Josh knows that Allen was my mentor during my time in TNA.” 
“Girl you know how Josh is. He’s being an ass because he misses you.” Trinity said and Jaiaina rolled her eyes.  
“Yeah well, he shouldn’t believe rumors about me.” 
“And you miss him too, right?” Trinity questioned. 
Jaiania rolled her eyes. “Of course I miss him, I never said I didn’t.”
“ Do you still love him?” 
Jaiaian took another sip of her drink before answering. “Yes I still love him, but it is extremely obvious that he never did. We break up and the first thing he does is go fuck on one of our coworkers? That’s foul. Now every time I walk past that hoe she got a fucking smirk on her face that I wanna smack off. ” 
Trinity and Carmella found themselves nodding along with Jaiaina’s statement. It was an extremely foul thing for Josh to do. 
“I still don’t know what possessed him to do that. “ 
“I do.” Jaiaina rolled her eyes. “He been wanting to fuck Dasha. Surprised he didn’t do it  while we were dating.” 
Trinity rolled her eyes at her friend. “Josh may have been an asshole but we all know he wouldn’t cheat on you.” 
Jaiaina hummed as she took a sip of her drink. She then eyed her friend. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your husband?” 
“Oh, about that.” 
Jai narrowed her eyes at Trinity before letting out a gasp. “You didn’t !” 
“I’m sorry! I know we already planned this girl's night and I didn’t wanna flake on y'all.” 
Jai scoffed and turned towards Carmella who was already looking at her with guilty eyes. 
“I invited  Corey too.” 
Jaiaina had to stop herself from throwing a temper tantrum. “You guys” she whined. “Girls night mean just girls.” She pouted. 
Trinity and Carmella burst into laughter. “We’re sorry! But look, we can have a girl's night once we go back to Florida. Just us.” 
“Fine,” Jaiaina said, still pouting. Just as she was about to take another sip of her drink, Jon, Josh and… Dasha fucking Jackson. Jaiaina scoffed and adverted her eyes from the couple. 
“I’m sorry,” Trin whispered as stood and greeted her husband and Corey purposely ignoring Josh and Dasha. Carmella did the same and Jaiania couldn’t have been more grateful for her friends. 
Don’t let it get to you, Don’t let it get to you. She repeated in her head as Dasha made a point of showing she was Josh’s girl now by placing a kiss on his lips. Once Dasha looked in her direction, Jaiaina stood from her seat and walked over to the bar. The drama was something she did not need nor want tonight. 
She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the bar. She had successfully gone months without being in the same space as Josh because it hurt. It hurt to look at him and not be with him. She said some foul things the day they broke up and so did he, but she never expected him to literally go and fuck another woman THE SAME NIGHT. 
“C’mon, you too pretty to be frowning.” Jaiaina had to stop herself from swinging on the slimeball that just slithered his way next to her. She turned her head to the side to face him and he smiled thinking he got her attention. She cringed at the food he had stuck in his teeth. 
“Thank you,” She said referring to the compliment. “But, uh no thanks.” She said referring to his advances. The bartender set down her rum punch, Jaiaina grabbed the drink and tried to walk away but the guy grabbed her arm. 
“Don’t be fucking rude.” He scoffed. “You didn’t even ask me my name.” 
“That’s cause I don’t wanna know your name!” She said, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp. Just from how tight his grip was, she knew she was going to have a bruise. “Let go of me!” 
“Don’t be such a bitch!” He spat at her, Just as Jai was lifting her knee to hit him in his balls, he was forcefully grabbed, which caused him to release her arm. 
“The fuck is you doin’?!”  
Jaiaina let out a gasp as Josh pushed the slimeball down to the ground. By now, more than half of the bar had turned their attention to them. “Don’t put ya’ fucking hands on her like that. Fuck is wrong witchu?!” 
Slimy McSlimerson tried to kick his feet at Josh but Josh sidestepped them and then kicked slimeball in his face, knocking him onto his back. Slimy let out a groan as he started to hold his now broken nose. 
“You alright?” The bartender asked coming around the bar and taking Jai’s arm in his hands, inspecting it. “You want me to call the cops?” 
Josh gently pulled Jaiaina away from the bartender, making him drop her arm. Jaiaina’s eyebrows furrowed together as Josh wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side.  “Nah, we good,” Josh said eyeing Slimy on the ground. Josh was tempted to knock Slimy’s teeth down his throat but decided against it as he led Jai out of the club and into the night's cool air. 
Jaiaina said nothing as she let Josh lead her outside. She momentarily allowed herself to lean into his familiar touch before remembering their current situation. “I’m fine now.” She said, taking another step away from him. “You can go back into the bar.” 
“And leave you out here?” He asked. “Bab–Jaiaina, you shaking.” 
“Okay, so send Trin or Mella out here. Go back inside.”  Josh sucked bus teeth and pulled off his black bomber jacket he was wearing and handed it to her. 
“Just take the damn jacket Jai” 
“I don’t want your damn jacket, Joshua. And I damn sure didn’t need your help back there. I had it.”
Josh scoffed and grabbed her arm, making them both look down at the purple bruise that was forming. “Yeah okay.” He snorted. He hated that she was so stubborn. “You can hate me all you want Jaiaina. But if you gon’ wait out here in the damn cold, take the damn jacket.” 
Jaiaina huffed and snatched the jacket out of his hands. “Happy?” She asked with a sarcastic smile and she slid her arms into the jacket. 
“Very.” Just as he said that the side door to the bar opened and her group of friends and Dasha spilled out. Dasha eyed the jacket and then narrowed her eyes at Josh, who was still looking at Jaiaina. 
“Girl! Are you okay?!” Trinity cried out as she and Leah rushed over to their best friend. Jai broke eye contact with Josh and turned her head towards her friends. 
“I’m fine. Just some weirdo who doesn’t understand the meaning of No.”  
Trinity, being the emotional drunk wrapped her arms around Jai’s head and pulled her down, so Jai’s head was resting on her breast. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you friend.” She whispered as a few tears slipped down her face. Jon and Josh sucked their teeth. 
“Man, Trin get off her.” Jai let out a soft laugh as Jon pulled Trinity away from her. 
“Did I ruin the mood? Or can we go back in?” Jaiaina asked. 
“Hell no! You didn’t ruin the mood! C’mon!” Leah said as she grabbed Trinity’s and Jaiaina’s hands and started to lead them inside. 
“Actually. I’m not in the party spirit anymore… We’re gonna head back to the hotel. Dasha said as she walked over to Josh. Jaiaina hated the way her heart tightened in her chest. Jaiaina watched as Dasha slipped her hand into Josh’s, her fingers curling around his in that intimate, effortless way that people who were in love did. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a bit longer?” Josh asked, his voice soft but laced with that familiar warmth Jaiaina had once loved.
Dasha's hand tightened around his. “I’m sure. Come on, let’s go.” There was a finality to her words that Jaiaina couldn’t ignore.
Jaiaina’s chest tightened. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t hurt at all.
She and Josh had broken up for a reason—no matter how hard it had been. She told herself she was over it. Jaiaina forced herself to look away from the couple. 
“I think I'm gonna head back too. I forgot I have an early flight to Birmingham in the morning.” 
Birmingham? Josh arched his eyebrow at the mention of Birmingham. He knew there was only one reason why she was going there, which meant she lied to Jon earlier when he asked about her arm. 
Trinity and Leah shot her playful glares, but their smiles quickly softened into teasing hugs. After making Jaiaina promise to hang out once all three of them were in Florida, Jon, Trin, Leah and Corey walked back inside the bar. 
Jaiaina stood there awkwardly. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and ordered an Uber. She could feel Josh and Dasha’s eyes on her. 
“Oh, your jacket,” Dasha said as their Uber pulled up. 
“She can keep it. It’s cold as hell out here Baby.” Baby.. just hearing that Josh had a nickname for Dasha made Jaiaina sick to her stomach.  
“It’s fine..” Jaiaina trailed off as she took the jack off and handed it back to Josh. “I should have brought out my own coat.” 
“Yeah, you should have.” Dasha scoffed and snatched the jacket out of Jai’s hands. 
Be the bigger person Jaiaina thought, don’t beat this bitch’s ass. 
“C’mon man, you ain't have to snatch it,” Josh muttered as he walked towards the Uber. Dasha rolled her eyes and stomped after him. 
“Well, why did you give her your jacket? Could have let the hoe freeze for all I care.” 
Jaiaina gritted her teeth as the door to the Uber slammed shut and they drove away. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the deep breathing exercises her therapist told her to do. Forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths in and out. In through the nose, out through the mouth...
It didn’t work. Not this time.
Dasha was so lucky that Jaiaina actually enjoyed her job, cause Jai would have BEEN beat her ass by now. 
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Jaiaina’s head had barely hit the pillow before three sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed through the room. Her stomach twisted into knots at the sound of the knocks. 
There was only one person in the whole world that knew three was her safe number. Sighing, she threw the covers off of her, grabbed her pink Versace robe, and opened the door.
“Why did you lie to twin earlier?” Jaiaina blinked. 
What?” she scoffed, a quick laugh escaping her. “What are you talking about?”
“Earlier, Jon asked about your arm. You said you were fine but you not. Why you going to Birmingham in the morning.” 
“What I have going on in my life doesn’t concern you anymore Joshua,” Jaiaina said firmly, trying to shut down the conversation before it could go any further.
“Don’t do that.” He muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t act like you weren’t a major part of my life.” 
“I was. Not anymore Joshua. Go back to Dasha and leave me alone.” 
Josh’s jaw tightened as he took a deep breath trying to compose himself. “Look, I know –” 
“No,” Jaiaina said as she started to shake her head. “I’m not doing this with you.” Josh looked confused as she started to close the door in his face, at the last second, he put his foot in between the door and the fame. Jaiaine huffed as he easily overpowered her and gently pushed her away from the door. 
She stomped over to the bed and threw herself down on it, while Josh shut the door behind her and went to sit in the armchair that was placed between the bed and the window. 
“Josh, it's been six months since we last talked. Let’s just go back to that.” 
“I don’t want to. I fucking miss you Jaiaina.” 
Jaiaina laughed making Josh scoff. 
“The hell so funny?” 
“YOU!” She exclaimed as she jumped from the bed and pointed at him. “You think you can just come swoop in like some type of Superman after what you did?! Fuck off, Joshua!” 
“Jai, I know I said some fucked up shit but -” 
“Said?! No nigga. It's about what you did!” She cut him off.  “The fact that you fucked that bitch the same night we broke up was foul as hell Joshua!” 
“Woah!” He called out, jumping to his feet. “I ain't do no shit like that. Fuck is you talking about.” 
Jaiaina let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah okay.” She said mockingly with a roll of her eyes. “The bitch already told anybody who would listen. The same night you walked out of our hotel room, you went to her! And you fucked her.” Jaiaina couldn’t hold it back anymore, the tears that threatened to spill since the bar came flowing down her face.
"Jai, I swear to you, that's ain’t what happened," Josh said, his voice low and urgent. He took a step towards her, but Jaiaina backed away, shaking her head.
“Don’t Joshua. Just leave.” 
“Hell no. I’m not going anywhere. I lost you once, I’m not doing It again.” 
Jaiaina childishly covered her ears. “I’m not listening to any of the bullshit you are spewing tonight Joshua!” She uncovered her ears and narrowed her eyes at Josh. “Okay let's just say, you didn’t have sex with her the same night. You’re still with her now! And don’t deny it, I heard you call her baby.” When Josh didn’t deny it, Jaiaina felt her heart break even more. “Please just go. Go back to your girlfriend and go back to ignoring me.” She whispered as she lowered her eyes to the ground. 
Jaiaina heard him sniffle but she didn’t lift her head to look at him. “I never wanted to hurt you Jai.” Jaiaina didn’t say anything back, she didn’t have anything to say. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about Josh by the morning. 
Josh sighed and started walking towards the door, the silence between them was too much. It was suffocating. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make things right. But he didn’t know how. With one last glance at Jaiaina, he turned and walked out the door. 
As soon as the door shut, Jaiaina broke down, she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her sobs. Outside, Josh leaned against the closed door, his forehead pressed against the cool wood. He could hear Jaiaina's muffled cries through the thin barrier, and each sob felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to burst back in, to take her in his arms and explain everything. But he knew she wouldn't listen, not now.
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April 18th 2017
Birmingham, Alabama
Jaiaina knew it was stupid to go through this surgery alone, but WWE provided the best doctors so she knew she was in good hands. 
Waking up from surgery was a feeling she would never get used to. She let out a groan at the dull ache in her right shoulder and immediately she heard someone shh her and place a straw at her lips. The comforting sensation of the water helped clear some of the haze, but as she blinked her eyes open, the shock of who was sitting next to her hit her like a ton of bricks.
“I gotchu, relax.” 
“What are you doing here?” She whispered,  her voice scratchy and weak from the anesthesia.
“Making sure you alright and not alone.” 
“Josh please –” 
He shushed her again. “I broke whatever I had with Dasha off. Imma be truthful and say that yeah, I got with her to fuck with you after I heard the rumor about you and AJ but, I did not have sex with her that same night. To be honest, I never had sex with her, I haven’t had sex with anybody since you.” 
Jaiaina’s jaw dropped open. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She had spent the past six months hating Josh because she thought he was a slimy asshole. She didn’t know how to feel right now. 
“Josh I-”  She started, 
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, Jaiaina,” Josh continued, his voice soft but firm. “Not right away. Aight? I know I messed up, and I know it’s not gonna be easy. But I’m willing to work this out, but only if you want to.”
Jaiaina stared into his eyes, no matter how hard she tried she would never get rid of the love she had for this man. It was a big relief to finally hear the truth about the night that they broke up but he still hurt her by ignoring her for six months. 
“Please.” He whispered. “I always seen you in my life. Always seen you as the mother of my kids. Just give me one more chance.” 
Jaiaina’s breath caught in her throat. This was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him in the three years they had dated. 
“Okay,” She whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But I swear on everything I love, this is your LAST chance.” 
Josh's face lit up with a mixture of relief and hope. He gently took Jaiaina's hand, careful not to disturb the IV line. “I promise you, I won't mess this up again. I love you too damn much.” 
Jaiaina stared at him for a second before a small smile came across her face. “I love you too.” 
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Authors Note: I'm sorry if this sucked 😮‍💨😫
I've had this halfway written for about a year and just decided to say fuck it and finish it. I really do hope you all enjoy it! ❤️
Side Note:
Jaiaina had torn rotator cuff.
Josh definitely bribed and threatened an intern to tell him what was wrong with Jaiaina LOL!
🏷️: @paigereeder @harmshake @empressdede @theninthwonder @jaethaone
@mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni @xmonetsworld @christinabae
@southerngirl41 @reci1996 @alyyaanna @li-da-savage @kill-the-artiste
@trashbin-nie @adoreesun @shayaaaaaaa @bebesobrielo @bookuce
@rianasixx @kat3457 @queeny23 @privateeyed95 @cyberdejos2
@justazzi @jstarr86 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vampygomez @msbigredmachine
@ashykneee @callmekayd @yana3sworld @romansthrone @alichesmi
@amandairene88 @scarlettnoir01 @bonni-98 @sassginamillls @rebelrel0987
@aikosilo @vibessonvibes @magnificentbouquetmusic @tbmotw @nayys-world
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starfxkrinc · 2 days ago
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⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ⋆✴︎˚。
jj said you spooked him sometimes. not ever on purpose, but you were so quiet. moving around the house swiftly on the tips of your toes to the point he never heard you coming.
“keep spookin the shit outta me and im gettin you a bell.” he laughed when he said it, pinching your cheek with a goofy grin before we turned back to the table he was setting up. so you didn’t think twice about it, not when he jumped out of his skin when you brushed past him in the kitchen or when he let out a yelp when you appeared in his vision as he worked on your car.
but you could sense his growing frustrating—his laughs turned to scoffs and his smile was tight when you gave a half hearted apology. it wasn’t your fault, you’d always been quiet.
you guess the last straw was the other night. jj woke up at 2am to you not in bed, so he searched for you, you weren’t in the bathroom and you weren’t in the kitchen, chugging a jug of strawberry milk. his heart raced, you had to be there somewhere and it wasn’t like you to disappear like this. by the time he checked outside to still not get a glimpse of you he was panicking and breathing so hard his vision tunneled.
only for him to let out a loud “fuck!” when he got back to your room and there you were, buried under the pillow, asleep again. the next morning you told him you walked right behind him, standing in the doorway and you figured he just needed fresh air.
it took him an hour to settle his heartrate enough to sleep. and in that hour he made a decision.
jj had to get it right, so he snatched one of your necklaces off the counter, tucking it in his pocket as he made his way to the general pet store, nose crinkling at the familiar pet smell. it didn’t take him long, finding a collar with a little bell on it, small enough to sit in the base of your throat, the actual collar was just big enough to be comfortable.
when he took it to the cashier, she made a comment, “didn’t know you got a cat jj. i always took you for a dog guy.”
jj shrugged, “little bitch snuck up on me what can i say.” and with a pop of his gum the conversation was over. he ignored how uncomfortable she looked after that.
getting you in it was another story—he looked too smug, hovering over where you sat on the couch reading.
“got you something.”
you eyed him warily, “got me what…”
he produced the offending item from his pocket, and your stomach churned as hill smile got wider.
“so you stop creepin around the house like some…creep.”
“no…no i dont wanna wear it.” you shook your head fast, your body tensing up to bolt, “jj you’re a dick this ain’t funny.”
“who’s laughin?”
you make it about 3 strides before he catches you, knocking you to the ground and locking your hands to your sides with his knees as you both struggle.
“c’mon, stop fightin you know i’ma win, just relax and let me. put it. on!”
you were wild—biting and scratching in an attempt to push him away, but he’s gotten stronger and he’s gotten meaner so all it takes is a palm against your face, pressing you hard into the floor for him to get it on you.
“fuck! bit the fuck outta me damn, i’m just tryna make shit easy on both of us.” jj bends the plastic of the fastener, knowing the second he gives you an inch you’ll rush to take it off.
and you do, tears of anger and frustration sliding down your face as you beg him to let you go, “just take it off please, i wasn’t trying to worry you i promise but i can’t walk around like this.”
jj’s flushed red, his face damp and sweaty with welts rising on his cheek and arm from where you scratched him, “tough titty kid, it’s for your own good.”
in a split second you go from begging to anger, cursing and swinging on him again.
“you’re a fucking piece of shit. fucking scumbag i’m not a goddamn animal i should kick your fuckin ass.”
rolling his eyes he gets up and shrugs, “you can try. at least this time i’ll hear you.”
after that you become real ornery, dodging kisses and sticking pillows between you while you slept to keep him away. jj could hear you all the time now—a soft jingle punctuated by a growl of frustration or a series of manic curses. and he looked pleased. of course he did. because he found a way to get over on you. and the scissors couldn’t cut through the thick fabric of the collar and when he caught you with the knife to your neck trying to saw it off he basically attached his carabiner to your belt loops to keep you close.
you were officially collared and leashed.
and jj could only stand the fighting so long.
“i know you’re mad at me, but you can’t stay mad.” jj muttered in between kisses to your face, his calloused hand cradling the other one to keep you close—this was as close as you’ve let him get in days, and it was only because he caught you after a shower all soft and languid. he knew he was playing a dangerous game letting his thumb rub against your bottom lip.
“fuckin watch me—stop!” he bit you. hard. right on the soft apple of your cheek before soothing it with a gentle suck.
“nope, no ya can’t. you don’t get to.” the kisses get lower, trailing down your neck as he slips his thumb in your mouth, “you’re all mine pussycat, i can do what i want.” he punctuates that with another bite, right to your clavicle and he continues to litter you in bites and harsh sucking kisses until your covered in bruises.
that makes you bristle, "no i'm not."
"no?"
"fuck you, i'm not."
gripping your thighs he pulls you closer, and he smirks when he spreads you open. even in the low light he can see the dewy pout of your cunt.
"right."
you barely even fight when he pushes in, all rough and claiming like he has something to prove. maybe he does. because your squeezed tight around him in a way that makes him feel crazy, like you don't wanna let him go. because he's just as much yours as you are his. because you're just as desperate as he is. you missed him. kissing him with sharp teeth and clawing him closer until your pressed so tight you can't tell you you end and he begins.
the room quickly becomes a cacophony of sex-- filled with the wet squelch of your pussy and strangled moans from the back of jj's throat. even when he presses against your stomach to make you whine, even as he grunts into your neck with his teeth bared and his tongue laving over your throbbing pulse point.
nothing's louder than the little bell jingling at the hollow of your throat.
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tofics · 3 days ago
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
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S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
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Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
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“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
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“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
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“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
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“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
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You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
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“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 
 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 
“I said yes,” you snap. 
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.” 
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.” 
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.” 
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 
“What’re you talkin’ about?” 
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 
“The other one.” 
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him. 
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 
 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 
“No. It was burning me.” 
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 
“You can ask, you know.” 
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 
“Yes.” 
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 
“It’s not your business.”
 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 
“I don’t want to,” you whine. 
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 
“All of it.” 
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 
“Yeah. I see that.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.” 
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 
“Somewhere else.” 
“Right. Somewhere else.” 
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 
“Yes.” 
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 
“Joel.” 
No answer. 
“JOELLLL,” you yell. 
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?” 
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?” 
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 
 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper. 
“Exactly.” 
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 
 You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 
And fucks you, and fucks you. 
And keeps fucking you. 
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 
“Super, yeah. Sore.” 
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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Note
Keith has a thick Texan accent, but over the years of bitchy garrison kids, he uses the accent that we hear in the show
But when he gets really mad? The paladins very much hear it. It shocked lance the first time he heard it!
Keith had seen shiro do something dangerous and stupid. He was, rightfully, concerned. So they’re arguing. Shiro says it wasn’t dangerous and that Keith is getting way too worked up over something small. Maybe he was over reacting but it’s Keith.
“Overreacting? You can’t be all hat and no fuckin cattle! And dont you DARE say I’m pitchin a hissy hit! The moment you saw it was gettin dangerous you AND PIDGE!” He points over at pidge who is on the sidelines with the alteans and other paladins like ‘since when does he have this accent and WHEN did he learn to talk like that?? TO SHIRO?? HIS BIG BROTHER..’ 😨😶
.
“y’all both should’ve dragged yer asses back here right quick!” “Keith-“ “I AM NOT DONE TALKIN! Hush up! Cause what in Tarnation was yall done thinkin?! And bless your heart cause I know you were trying to keep her safe but are you a fucking idjit? Cause you were done acting like one!” This goes on for twenty minutes until he switched to Korean because “there ain’t enough words in the English language to describe that I am madder then a hornet at y’all!”
This whole thing was in a very thick Texas accent
- Vee 💜
Wow that imagery actually just made the world a little more bearable
I love the thought of Keith being a little awkward the next day because he did not just talk to Shiro like that.
Shiro's not even mad, just impressed, but Kekth feels a little bad about it lmao
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wizzdot · 1 day ago
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Sunshine
Chapter 2
Description: Ray finds out a little more about the 141’s current situation. You meet Johnny, and see Gaz in the infirmary..
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What the fuck were you thinking following the Lieutenant that you barely even knew. You’d crossed paths with him, what, twice? And not even spoken a word to him either time. Christ, Y/n you really are a stupid bitch..
You stomp along behind Ghost for maybe 5 minutes before he rounds a corner and nods at a black, clearly military, jeep.
“Get in, we’re goin’ back to base”
You scowl at his commanding tone, and climb in the passenger seat, dumping your bags in the footwell between your legs and slumping in the seat, sticking to the chairs thanks to the absolutely soaking that the rain had given you.
The Lieutenant starts the engine and bounces it roughly off of the curb he had parked poorly on.
“Jeez Louise, LT.. you’ll give the lassie a concussion if you drive like ‘aht”
The tin of soup is held aloft ready to smash the stranger in the head until the Lieutenant’s huge paw smacks it from your hand.
“He’s friendly, drop your weapon, Ray” he jokes.
“Who the fuck are you and why are you hiding in the back of the car..?” You growl at the Scottish man, you already knew was ‘Soap’, a member of the 141. He didn’t need to know that you knew who he was though, and you could tell it hit him in the ego a bit when you pretended not to recognise him.
He recovers quickly though, you’ll give him that. He smiles brightly “name’s Johnny, or Soap, and I wisnae hiding. LT said you’d be more likely you come if we didn’t go in mob handed, so I stayed behind..”
“I can still open the door and roll myself into traffic.. don’t fuckin’ test me. I’m coming back to check Gaz, then I’m out. I’ve not agreed to anything or signed anything..” you threaten in a deadpan tone.
Soap gulps and his smile fades slightly. “LT, Cap said she was…. awkt, how’d he put it? Aye thats right.. a ray of sunshine.. you sure you got the right one..?”
“I’m sure Johnny. Now shut up. Don’t need her rolling herself into traffic…” the Lieutenant replies to the chatty Scot. You catch his reflection in the wing mirror and can tell that it physically pains the man to actually shut the fuck up. His eyes are dart in from object to object, his mouth dropping open only for his brain to kick in and remind himself to keep quiet.
The rest of the drive is silent. Perfect.
The truck pulls into base, and you aren’t even taken through security which you thought was strange. The Lieutenant lurches to a halt and cranks the handbrake on, climbing from the vehicle. You follow suit, donning your two rucksacks and your ratty plastic bag filled with your shitty groceries and wine.
“Here lass, I’ll get that for you..”
“Touch me, or anything that belongs to me, and you’ll lose your hand, Soap.”
He retracts his hand as if you’d given him an electric shock. The Lieutenant huffs a laugh.
“This way” the Lieutenant grunts. You follow, with soap trailing behind, kicking stones glumly.
You’re led to an office.
‘Captain J.Price’
‘TF-1-4-1’
Here we fuckin’ go you roll your eyes. The door is opened and you step through the threshold.
“Welcome back, Soldier” the Captain speaks, standing to shake your hand. You ignore him and turn away.
“Not coming back, and not a soldier. Just want to check Gaz ain’t dying” you reply stubbornly.
“He’s sitting up and chatting today. Took a fall from a chopper, poor lad. He cheered right up when I told him you were joining the team” - “seems cruel to give him false hope, does it not, Captain?”
“What did my Lieutenant tell you..?”
“Whoa whoa whoa. I’d like to start off by saying, firstly, I don’t appreciate being tracked down. I also don’t appreciate sending your fuckin’ guard dog to break into my flat and come and fetch me, I also don’t appreciate that fact that you’re just assuming I’ll fall back into the obedient soldier role. I’m not even your soldier, never was, Sir” you smile tauntingly.
“Now, you will take me to Gaz, I’ll have a quick chat with him, and I’ll be on my way - I’m not signing up for this shit again..”
You stare down the Captain who remains silent before the Lieutenant speaks up.
“This shit? What, like it’s worse than what you’ve been doing for the past coupla’ years? Your shitty, mouldy flat, getting groped by drunks at the Rose and Thorn, the tackiest pub in the East? Really? Like you’ve got anything whatsoever that’s better than this..” he huffs laughing.
You clench your jaw and try not to snap. Physically or emotionally. He was right. You’d been horrifically depressed for years. Considered ending it all a few times but you were too much of a coward for that.
“I’ll find the infirmary myself, and then see myself out..” you slam the door behind yourself and leave the three men behind.
Thankfully, you find signs for the infirmary and follow them, finding the correct place. The lady behind the front desk glares daggers at you. “Visitor for Kyle Garrick” you say monotonously.
“Room 3, you have ten minutes, he’s already had visiting time for the day” she whips sourly at you.
“Yeah, whatever” you spit back, storming to the correct door.
Kyle practically jumps out of his skin as you crash through the door. “Jeez, Ray.. you scared me half to death” he jokes, laughing.
“You don’t look as bad as I was expecting. They made it sound like you were on deaths door..” - “what? Nah, mate. Just some internal bruising and a chipped bone in my hand..”
“So I didn’t need to visit then?” You remark bluntly. Kyle’s smile drops slightly. “Well, it’s nice to see you.. I mean.. you left.. suddenly?” he tries.
“Yeah, and now your team are trying to get me to come back, using you as leverage. Know anything about that..?” you accuse.
Kyle looks guilty as sin.
He gulps before starting to attempt to explain.
“Well.. Cap’s been trying to get you since I joined. Laswell only gave him clearance to take on one rookie. He noticed your file remember..? And when I mentioned about my wallet.. and then I got hurt.. the plan sort of fell into place. We’d track you down and try and make an offer… we really need someone like you on our team, Ray..”
“Yeah, the wallet was a sneaky fuckin trick, Garrick. Not gonna forgive you for that one. And now that I’ve seen you’re not on death’s door…” you speak as you walk back towards the door.
“Y/n!”
No one calls me by my real name..
“Wait.. please..”
You don’t want to. You want to leave this god forsaken place and not look back. But I hesitate. And that hesitation changes everything..
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earthearthearththearth · 2 days ago
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can i maybe request daisuke x suicidal reader? its okay if your uncomfortable with writing that i completely understand😭
Don't you worry anon a little suicidal never killed no one!!! real note i'm sorry for whatever u may be going through I hope these are awesome sauce!!
TW mentions of being suicidal ofc
🌺Daisuke x Suicidal Reader🌺
-he ain’t a psychologist, not even close. And he’s not gonna know exactly what to say or what to do, but maybe it’s better that way
-It’s just nice to have someone who isn’t reciting the same things you’ve heard before. I mean, if you’re on the tulpar with him, he’ll really not know that much about your life, you know? Maybe it does suck that bad, but regardless of your reasoning or lack thereof wanting to kill yourself, he doesn’t want you to. Even if you’re not dating, he’s keeping an eye out
-Daisuke is already pretty attentitive of how you’re doing, always asking how your day is even though it’s more or less the same as his. 
-Late night talks just last longer than usual. If you’re telling him you’re suicidal, he’s gonna be like woah, that’s big. So he’ll be more open to you about the whole trying to find meaning in life thing. Maybe you’ll relate. He doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care or like he’s not thinking about what you’re saying. You’re keeping that emotional object permanance. 
-He’ll keep an eyeball on you, especially when the ship crashes. He’s not naive and he’s not stupid. Okay, maybe a little, but he’s not a child. He might not get exactly what you’re going through, but if you go up to him and say ‘hello daisuke mouthwashing i’m actually suicidal yeah?” he’s going to think “oh this person’s suicidal thoughts are so rough that they’re telling daisuke mouthwashing”
-Like, he’ll think you’re telling him because you need help, not just for funsies. And he’s gonna ask you how he can do that. If you weren’t on a ship in the middle of outer space, he would make you cut up fruit. He’d do that regardless but he is a cut up fruit truther!!
-Just be honest with him about your bounderies because he’s already majorly clingy, but now he’s gonna be majorly clingy and actually aware of the expressions going on your face. He is so bad at reading the room oh my god. So now he’s laser focused onto you for at least a few weeks after you tell him
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ajastor · 6 hours ago
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“You ain’t got the look,” that being, the one AJ sees in countless others who might decline to engage in a conversation with him. They’re not brave enough to try and seduce what they want from an Astor, because he’s better at the game. They, here, aren’t bristled with the idea that they might be bathed in gold or provocation — they look at him like they don’t know who he is. This city, it’s new. And he’s yet to make a mark. Mostly, he’s deciding if he wants to.
He imagines going back and telling his mates about Port Leiry — what’s it selling? Nothing. What a waste of time, he could have been in the Maldives.
AJ smirks when they make their joke. It’s clever — hell it’s bloody funny, actually.
“It’s lacking in cheap tin signs, and embossing, you’d be right.” Keep Calm and Carry on — he’ll think about that joke, for a little of the night, he knows. “Don’t think you lot over here take that advice,” He’s noticed. It’s a pace that AJ likes, though. A little bit faster, rougher and without the bullshit flowers that London street sellers trying to feed him on his way from Mayfair, to Hammersmith.
He gestures back through the gallery door casually, “I did see a pretty nice pair of tits in there earlier,” that’s his joke — Not like my exes. He almost says, “—but it’s all a bit dry in there, innit? Only wet and wild thing in there, is that bloke I saw crying over some painted flowers,” Wetwipes. Drama. Sad bathroom art.
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Riley concedes his point and takes his word for it, somehow glad that they haven't actually met anyone who went out with this man more than once. It's more than likely that his comment is just tongue-in-cheek, but after years of their work, it's hard not to jump to the worst conclusions. They can see the wealth practically oozing out of his pores, and they know the world he exists in is far different from theirs.
"Is that an educated guess or do you know something I don't?" Riley shoots back with an easy grin. "I guess I don't really scare easily." She had been but a child when she was first introduced to how depraved and horrible a person could be. After all these years, a gruesome painting was the least of their concerns.
They nearly laugh at the mental image of this stranger wading through Etsy pages of cheap reposts of items from Shein. The thread count of his suit was probably higher than the fancy pair of sheets they'd splurged on after passing the bar, and there was a distinct way from the way he carried himself that reminded Riley of the nepo babies they'd gone to law school with. "Can't say I found anything particularly tempting. Didn't really have the same vibe as 'Keep Calm and Carry On'." They hope he understand that's a joke.
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quicksweetdreamer · 1 year ago
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My friend: "What’s your taste in men and women?"
Me: "I want a man I can bench press or a women that can bench press me."
My friend: "What??"
Me: "Wait I’ll show you…"
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My friend: "Ok I think I get it."
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lass-us-slay · 4 months ago
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So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.
So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.
So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.
So what does he do?
Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.
Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.
Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️
AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!
And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes
Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!
And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:
Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.
.
.
.
Good. I’m tired af
And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.
It’s going great.
But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.
And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.
Yk because of the ectoplasm.
So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!
In the form of blob ghosts.
Two actually.
They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.
Everything was great.
Danny was loving the trash can life style.
He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.
He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.
However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.
Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.
But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.
He stared, they stared back.
Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:
“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”
But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.
Which- rude.
Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.
Plus.
It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!
They should mind their own business!
———
Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.
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voilaammayi · 10 months ago
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John Watson saying you join me and my companion/colleague/friend/flat mate while the only thing I can think of is oh please cut the bullshit.
Companion is already the gayest word in existence and yet you want to salvage yourself by flat mate in a desperate try of not using roommate which is actually nothing more than just the second gayest word in existence and you and I both know it.
Who do you think you’re fooling John, my beloved sweet summer child, only yourself I’m afraid.
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elizakai · 5 months ago
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i love the MTTRIO because they are all judgy hypocritical little shits living off of spite and appy juice
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catwouthats · 4 months ago
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I’m researching all the animals wolverine gets compared to so I can see which ones are most like him and to which degree they are like him.
Bro this shit is fueling headcanons…
His love language is definitely gift giving, but he wouldn’t usually say the gift is from him. It would just appear at the person’s place. Like randomly, his friends get random tiny things, and they have no fucking clue where they come from??? And things they thought they lost appear again?? They must just think they are lucky at first.
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spxcecreature · 2 months ago
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ain’t no way i would survive in hannibal’s world. not bc i think he’d eat me (idk what ur talkin about, jack crawford, i haven’t seen any severed limbs around here at all! i am minding my business !! aint gonna trick me!) but bc that man takes his time cooking, and i’m HUNGRY, bitch !!! just dilly dallying over here with a foot. meanwhile i’m about to starve to death
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sure-i-exist · 1 year ago
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Can we just appreciate how every time Richie says “don’t look at my sister” or something to that effect. Every single time Edward just stares right up at the sky
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